Shades and Colors
by PerhapsPerhapsPerhaps
Summary: This will be a collection of short erotic stores. Some are FSOG fan fictions other are original stories inspired by FSOG. The stories will be 1 to 3 chapters each & inspired by music, poetry or from reader suggestions so if you have ever wanted to see your favorite FSOG characters do something leave it in the comments! I'm trying out something new to get back into writing. Enjoy!
1. The Weekend - Chapter 1

Hello Readers-

I know it has been a very long time since I have posted and for that I am very sorry. I have had a very hard year, I don't want to go it the details but writing had to take a back-burner. I am finally in a much smoother place and have been able to write a few short stories. I asked on Facebook if you guys were interested in some FSOG and original erotic short stories and you guy were really excited to read what I have been working on. So that is this is going to be a series of erotic short stories between one and three parts each.

I also want this to be about YOU the reader. Is there something YOU want to see your favorite characters do that hasn't been done yet? Is there a song or poem you would like to inspire a short story? Take to the comment/reviews and let me know what you want to see here and I will try to give you want you want!

I have not been on FF for at least 6 months so I was shocked when I got on here to find over 100 new messages from my readers wanting to know if I was going to be posting. I had no idea. I'm going to do my best to reply and for those of you who reached out to me I am so sorry that it has taken so long for me to reply.

This first story is called the Weekend. It is three parts and is NOT a FSOG FF. This is an original story inspired by three Paolo Nutini songs. I will be posting shorts on FSOG as well in the coming days. But i wanted to see what you guys thought of something a little different. If you like it please let me know.

Also I am going to post this on Tumblr and if you follow me there I would really appreciate likes and reblogs to get my work out of the FF world. I will also be posting the links to the songs on My Tumblr and Facebook pages if you want to get familiar with this amazing music.

To everyone that encouraged me to post on Facebook Thank YOU very much and I hope you like it.

XOXO Erin

It was strange kind of normal being back in my home town. The odd feeling when something so familiar becomes foreign with time and distance, a feeling of belonging to a place that you no longer want to belong to, a place that you have outgrown. I had quietly said my good bye to New York well over a year ago, abruptly letting go of all the stuff (and maybe even the people) that bound me to one place for too long. I didn't understand what it was inside of me that made it hard to connect and long for what lies just beyond my grasp. I only knew that I wouldn't rest until I found it or until it found me.

I didn't want to come back to New York, at least not yet. I wasn't ready. I was content being far from home, surprisingly so. Sure, I missed my friends and family but I didn't miss the person I was when I was around them. I had thought about not coming, making a lame excuse at the last minute - a work emergency or a twisted ankle. But I knew that feelings would be hurt had I not made the trip. If it was any other reason than Ben's wedding I wouldn't have come back. Anyone else and I would have said no. But Ben is literally one of the best people I know and I didn't want to disappoint him because in all the years I had known him he had never disappointed me.

The wedding was on the east end of Long Island in a beach front small resort. I had been to a wedding there before so I knew the lay of the land; beautiful reception room, amazing hotel suites, specular views. A wedding there was a three day event. I checked into the hotel later than I wanted to but I had forgotten about Friday night traffic heading out east. I was stuck in a cab from the airport to East Hampton for over two hours. My dad had offered to get me, but I didn't see the point of him driving four hours in circles and I knew I would see my parents at the wedding.

I was the last to show up to the rehearsal dinner at a small Italian place a short ride from the hotel. I needed a nap after my travels and a little time to gather my thoughts. It was cold for early October, damp and almost bitter but the east end of Long Island is truly magical in the fall. The mature trees heavy with red and yellow leaves, quaint manicured homes all decorated for Halloween. The long stretches of farm land, the smell of charred corn and ocean salt in the air. It was a nice change from the heat and humidity I had grown used to living in the south. It was still summer hot in North Carolina, if we were lucky it would be warm through December.

I stood in front of the mirror for a good twenty minutes, my suitcase spread out on the bed. I didn't know how to dress, my blood had already thinned from the southern exposure and I didn't really bring anything too warm because I like to pack light, only what could fit in my carryon. I kept decided to it simple; Black pencil skirt that hit me just above the knee, a white silky shirt - tucked in but blousy, unbuttoned to show just a hint of boob bursting from my white lace bra, matching boy shorts, a thin gold leather belt, and my faithful back platform heels. Thankfully I didn't have anyone to impress. My friends have seen me at my very best and conversely my very worst. That is the one comfort of knowing people so long - the lack of superficial judgment. But I still wanted to look nice, maybe even hot, because I had decided to come alone and was worried that he might bring a date. I wasn't sure how I would feel if that were the case and I didn't have the balls to ask anyone if he was so I just prepared myself for the worst and decided to look my very best.

I took yet another cab knowing I was going to drink too much. It is what old friends do when they get together. They talk about back in the day and lose count of how many beers and shots we drank. We laugh loudly and pick at old wounds; maybe we'd even make a few new ones. Rehash all of our drunken nights and broken hearts. Good times. Good times. The cab pulled up to the restaurant about a quarter to eight. I walked in and checked my coat and scanned the room. I could see my friends scattered around, a few at the bar, a few dancing. It was only then I felt excitement. Up until that moment I felt dread. Dread because I knew Michael would be there, of course he would. He was even closer to Ben than I was. Ben was the reason that Michael and I met in the first place.

I scanned the room once more looking for a head that would stand a few inches above all the others. Thankfully I didn't see him in the crowd. I needed a drink before I would be ready. But I knew he was there, somewhere. Not that we parted badly or dramatically. We just parted and that was enough.  
I was quickly was greeted with hugs and kisses, a glass of cheap red wine that I drank quickly and then another. I hated to admit it but I was nice, being known by people and knowing people. It was something I lacked in North Carolina where everyone was a stranger. Though there was comfort in that too.  
I started to relax, as my eyes darted around searching for him once more, finding nothing and then I heard his voice say my name from behind and felt this familiar shiver run up the length of my back. I turned slowly and he smiled slowly, his dimples popping through, it was a sad smile though and I'm sure that it matched my own.

He looked older and tired, his dark brown, nearly black hair was cropped short and he was two days past a close shave. His thick brows were furrowed but couldn't hide the bright blue of his eyes. He looked good though, he looked right and wrong all at the same time. All the what-ifs swirled in my head until I felt dizzy by the possibilities, hoping that it was just the wine. We stood there for a second, surrounded by our friends, frozen. I felt it again, the feeling of something being so foreign but so familiar, of belonging to something you didn't want to belong to, the feeling of home.

He leaned closer to me and I forced myself not to move away from him. His hand rested on my hip, out of habit maybe, and our legs touched. I felt this odd stirring in my chest and I stopped breathing. I rested my one hand on his shoulder and the other on his waist. It was an awkward embrace at first, but then our bodies relaxed against one another and my head rested in the usual spot just below the crook of his neck and his chin found its rightful perch on the top of my head. My arms tightened around his waist but I was careful knowing that he always carried his service piece. It was the best and worst thing about dating a cop. He always had a gun close by, making you feel safe and protected but it was also a constant reminder that he needed a gun to keep him safe. I looked up at him and he kissed my cheek just shy of the corner of my mouth. His lips were warm and smooth and his breath smelled like oaky sweet whiskey. I wondered if his lips touched mine would I taste the other women on his lips, would he taste the other men on mine. He smelled the same, warm and rich like dark coffee and warm leather. We lingered like that for a moment longer than we should have and I could feel the eyes of our friends boring holes in the back of my head. I took a step back, freeing myself of his grasp and was filled with a feeling if sadness and regret that I had spent the last two years of my life trying to shake. The feeling that I had lost something and that something was missing.  
Yes. I was the one that ended it. That was a fact. But he was the reason it ended. I had been offered a transfer with my company. It was a huge stepping stone for me. I knew that his job kept him firmly planted in New York. I knew that neither one of us would have been open to long term long distance. When we finally started dating I knew it would come to an end. We wanted very different things from life. We were very different people. But there was this thing between us, this bond and I still felt it all these years later.  
Michael was a project, and I didn't do projects. He drank too much, he ate like shit, and he worked out too hard, boxed till he came home bloody. Everything about him was difficult and hard. He hated that I wouldn't fight with him, it wasn't my way. He liked to yell and scream and curse and exorcize what was plaguing him. I never saw the value in that, maybe because my parents fought a lot. I had decided long ago that there is little in life worth fighting about, that life was hard on its own and there was no reason to make it harder because someone forgot to put down the toilet seat.  
Like I said we were just very different people, Michael and I. When it worked it worked but when it didn't work it really, really didn't work.  
"How ya doin'?" God his voice killed me. It always did. It wasn't an elegant voice, not by a long shot. It was coarse and thick and heavy, just like his sarcasm and his cock for that matter. He looked at me with intent, like a case he was trying to piece together. He was figuring out how this was going to go, how I would respond to him, if I would respond to him. I was curious myself. Like I said we didn't end things badly. It was merely an understanding that life was taking us in opposite directions and neither one of us could make the decision to change our paths together.  
"I'm good Michael. You?"  
"Ahhhh... Not bad, not bad. Your hair got long." He reached over and twisted the ends of my hair between his fingers for a moment, letting the curl fall back around my waist.  
"Yeah. It's laziness really. Can't find a place down there to get it cut."  
"So the south is treating you good? Work is good?"  
"It's all good. What about you, how's the new commissioner treating you guys?"  
"You cut the head off a snake and another one grows in its place. Ya know what I mean." I smiled and for some reason ran my hand up and down his shoulder. I couldn't help myself; it was something I always did. He had been shot there years ago, it grazed his arm leaving a long scar. I spent hours of my life running my fingers up and down that line. I stopped myself from running my hand along the back of his neck and the soft bristle of his cropped hair. But God I wanted to.  
"Anyway. It's good to see you. We missed you last week. I would have bought you another lap dance." He chuckled at his own joke and brought back a good memory, somehow unifying us with our shared past - all the guys at the last stag party bought me lap dances. I was considered an honorary dude in Ben's circle of friends and was always included in guy's nights.  
"If memory serves I bought YOU a lap dance too. It's not my fault the girls liked me better."  
"They did take a shine to you, didn't they? I'll never for the life of me understand how the hell you could still look innocent slapping the ass of a stripper." We laughed together a bit until the noise of the bar swallowed us up.  
"You happy Bee?" He called me Bee and it felt like a knife to my heart. I earned the nickname because I was always humming and I reminded him of a bee buzzing around.  
"Yeah. I mean... Yeah. You?"  
"What the fuck is happy anyway? I wake up and I'm alive... I'm happy."  
It was that simple for him, it was something I always envied his simplicity. He wanted to eat, drink, fuck, fight, work and laugh. I always thought too much. Sometimes paralyzing myself with possibility.  
"Well, I'm glad to see you. It nice that we can still talk and have it not be uncomfortable." His expression changed slightly because he knew I was dismissing him in a way. I wanted to talk to him more but my heart felt too heavy in my chest.  
"Me too. Me too. I guess I'll see you later then." I nodded and smiled watching him make his way across the small room.  
I was relieved when I realized that he had not brought a date. Ben said he was dating someone though, but they weren't serious and he not met her yet. I was dating too, casually but no one that I would have brought 600 miles to meet the friends and family. The rest of the night was what I expected, fun but typical. I could feel Michaels gaze on me when he thought I wasn't looking and every so often our eyes would meet. I sat through four speeches, a video of photos, a cold meal of chicken Marsala, and it was finally time to go. I felt like I was counting down the hours until I was back on a plane and home safe.  
I made my quiet goodbyes to those that mattered, I looked for him but he was nowhere to be found and went outside to wait for my cab.  
"You leaving already?" He was leaning against the brick, smoking a cigarette. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of him.  
"I thought you quit?"  
"I did. I bummed this off of Ben's dad. But you know I smoke when I drink." He threw his half smoked cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the concrete.  
"You always drink."  
"Nah, not so much lately. I only had two tonight. Trying to keep it in check." That was a phrase I often used when trying to get him to cut back on his drinking. I liked the idea that my voice was still knocking around in that think head of his, even when I was so far away.  
"Good for you."  
"You need a ride?" Just as he asked my cab pulled up.  
"This is me. I'm good."  
"Let me take you home. We can talk a bit."  
"I'm not going home. Staying at the hotel."  
"Oh, me too. I heading back there myself."  
The cabby beeped the horn and I jumped. "Anyway, I guess I will see you tomorrow. Big day."  
"Dammit Bee." He muttered a few other things and walked up to the cab sending it off into the night, without me in it.  
"Jesus Mike!" He grinned at me. A big smug toothy grin. He enjoyed pissing me off and he succeeded.  
"I just saved you twenty bucks. Come on I'm parked around the corner."  
He was always doing shit like that, taking over. Making changes without asking. It always pissed me off, but it was who he was on a base level and I knew he was unable to change it. But I stood there holding my ground. I was not his girlfriend anymore and he had no right...  
"Bee, come on. It's getting cold. It's late. I don't like the idea of you in a cab alone. Okay. Sue me..."  
"I can take care of myself Michael."  
"I know. You coming?" He looked so smug and so fucking sexy.  
"No. I'll just call another cab."  
"You haven't changed one bit. Just get in the fucking truck."  
"Apparently you haven't changed either, when has talking to me like that ever gotten what you wanted?" I crossed my arms across my chest and inhaled deeply.  
"Never." He cocked his head to one side and sheepishly smiled. "Bee, please let me take you back to the hotel." I wanted to tell him no, but I was tired and cold and just slightly drunk. I just wanted to find my nice hotel bed and Michael was the fastest way to get me there and in all honesty he wouldn't take no for an answer.  
"Okay."  
"Okay?" He looked at me puzzled. "That was easy."  
"No it wasn't." I laughed a little as I spoke and he smiled taking my hand in his leading me to his old black truck, that over the years I had gotten to know very well.  
We drove for a little while in silence. The restaurant faced an old dock and was tucked away through winding roads, large houses mostly Victorian in style lined the streets. They look lovely and quaint in the light of day but eerie in a moonless midnight.  
"I'm glad you came. Ben wasn't sure if you would." I suddenly felt nervous, it was a feeling in my belly that I couldn't explain.  
"Yeah, I wasn't sure if I was going to come either but it's going to be a fun weekend." There was a long pregnant pause; Michael was never one for idle chatter. That was actually one of my favorite things about him. We talked about real things, the meaning of life, the cases he worked on, my writing, but we also were able to sit together and not talk at all. Just be together in silence. That is what I missed the most about us. Sunday mornings in his apartment, coffee, papers, pancakes and silence.  
"So, you're good? I mean... You're... I don't know... I just..." I wasn't sure what he was trying to say and I was even less sure about what I wanted to hear. "I just miss the fuck outta ya."  
"I miss you too."  
"Do ya? Cause you never call or text or anything."  
"I know. Either do you. It just easier not to I guess."  
"Yeah well, I'm sure it easier for you, you're the one that left. Nothing reminds you of me but everywhere I go reminds me of you." I sat there stunned for a moment by his honesty and the clarity of it.  
"I didn't just leave, I had an opportunity and it took it. Like you told me to." He took his eyes off the road and just looked at me for a moment. I could see just a hint of anger in his eyes.  
"So if I would have told ya to stay. You would have stayed?" It was a question I had asked myself a million times and the answer was always the same - I didn't know.  
"It doesn't really matter what I would have done. If you would have wanted me to stay you would have asked me to stay. You didn't."

"That's what you think? That I didn't want you to stay?"  
"I think that when you want something nothing stops you Mike. I mean you didn't want me in the cab and I'm not in the cab. I'm here with you in this truck." It was the truest thing I had ever said. Nothing happened that Michael didn't want to happen. He was a control freak, he had to be in his line of work and it extended to his personal life. It was actually reassuring because I knew that when Michael was around nothing bad would ever happen to me. That I would always be safe and protected and I need that more than anything to be happy – the feeling of safety that couldn't only be found on the other side of trust. I knew that if he wanted me to stay he would have moved heaven and earth to keep me in New York. I knew that we saw our futures very differently. I wanted kids and a home and he did not. It was really that simple. He did not see a life with a family and I could not see my life without one. And there was our great divide. He didn't speak for a few moments and then abruptly he pulled the truck over on to the side of the road. I could see the tension in his fingers and arms as he clenched the steering wheel.

"I wanted you to stay… I just… You wanted this career and I knew what it meant to you and I didn't want to be that guy… And then there is the whole marriage thing and…" Our eyes locked for a moment and I felt every muscle in my core clench as my breath hitched. I looked away, out the window to a small house a few yards away. The windows bright from the lights within, carved pumpkins on the front porch and a small bike left out on the lawn.

"I know. I get it… It would have happened anyway… It's fine… It sucks but it fine."

"This is anything but fine. If I would have asked you to stay would you have stayed?"

"I don't know…" My mind was racing, going back and forth with staying and leaving. I could feel this tension emitting from him, I could feel his anger and his struggle but I couldn't force myself to look at him.

"Look at me Bee." His voice was low and soft and I turned my head slowly and met his gaze. "Would you have stayed?"

"Yes. Because if you would have asked me to stay, it would have meant more than just that wouldn't it?" We both knew that asking me to stay would have meant a change in our path, that staying would have meant a future and a family and all the things that he fought against but that I hoped one day he would want too. He sat there and said nothing; I knew he was putting pieces together, figuring it all out. I wasn't really sure what I expected him to say or what I wanted him to say but his silence was killing me. Before I knew what was happening his car door flew open, the interior light hurting my eyes and then the slam of the door making me jump. I watched him walk in front of the truck, as I eased off my seatbelt and then my door flew open. His hands grasped the sides of my face pulling my mouth to his. And then the space that has been between us for nearly two years was gone. His finger knotted in my hair and our mouths began to move together, softly at first but as I move my body out of the car a stood pressed against him our rhythm changed, It was deep and hungry and filled with all the kissed we had missed. The scruff on his face chafed my skin and tickled my neck as he trailed down to my collar bone, leaving little damp patches that cooled in the autumn wind. He pushes open my jacket and sinks his teeth gently into the soft flesh where my shoulder meets my neck and I grab a fist full of his crisp white shirt into my hands pushing my body against his. I can feel his hard cock pressing into by belly and while I have dated since we parted, there have been no other lovers. All I want his cock inside of me, that is all I can think about.

He unbuttons my blouse and pulls my breast from the lace of my bra, his warm mouth sucking on my sensitive nipple, sending a sensation directly to my equally erect clit. Every muscle and tendon in my body tightens, my core throbs, every sense is heightened and somehow dulled at the same time. I slide my hand between our pressed bodies and grab him through his trousers; he growls into my ear and takes my ass firmly into both hands, lifting me up on to my tip toes. I hear a car drive by us and become aware again that we are on a street in the middle of a quaint neighborhood as he descends to his knees lifting my skirt in the process. I am distracted again by the sound of ripping lace and the cold air hitting me in my warmest places and then his presses his lips gently to my pubic mound and everything fades away once again. He knows my body better than I do and he remembers well. His hikes my leg over his shoulder and slides two fingers inside of me, keeling a deep base rhythm while his mouth and tongue flick and suck on my clit like high pitched strings of a well-tuned orchestra. I angle my body, the cold metal of the car pinioning me against his mouth and I begin to slowly grind as he sucks and pumps and then quickly I feel it build. My ass clenches, my legs shake and cover my mouth with both hands as I cum. It is a revelation, cumming like that again with him, I had forgotten the difference.

His stands and wraps one arms around my waist, I swear it the only thing that keeps me from falling down. He smiles and presses his forehead to mine as I unzip his pants and release his cock from the layers of fabric. I stoke him slowly from base to tip, and try and spread the pre-jack with my thumb to ease the friction. His breathing is strong and hot on my face and I can feel his heartbeat in my hand.

"Still on the pill?" I nod once and I know he can't take it another second when he puts his hands under my ass cheeks and lifts me slightly, my one foot on the running board of his truck and the other wrapped around him. It's slightly awkward because he is nearly a foot taller, but we have always made it work. He sinks into me slowly and I can feel everything stretch around him as he pushes deeper and deeper, until he can go no more. He growls from the back of his throat and stills inside of me, pressing his lips gently to mine.

"I remember you." It's a grumble and a prayer. He slides in and out of me with ease, slowly as if we are in no rush, like we are back in his apartment on a lazy Sunday morning fucking after breakfast, not pressed against a truck in the middle of suburbia. I tighten my arms around his neck and then both legs wrap low around his waist his arms cradling me from underneath and only then does he pick up his pace. All I can hear are our stifled moans and the sounds of our bodies slapping against one another. I can feel it building again inside me only this time from a differently place, it's deeper and more profound. He fucks me hard and fast and with each thrust upwards the fabric of his briefs rubs against my clit giving me this new but odd sensation.

"Michael… Oh god…" I suck and bite on the tip of his ear and then his shoulder trying to muffle the scream that is dying to leave my mouth. The first wave of my orgasm hits me and my ears begin to ring, I feel him throb inside of me and a low moan is muffles into my neck.

"Fuuuuukkk." He stops moving and holds me still as his entire body stopping his own orgasm and we just rock for a few moments, as I grind against him, then the second and more powerful wave hits me. I squeeze around him while he twitches and jerks against me. He pulls out and though I want him to stay right where he is I lower my legs and grab his cock, stroking it firmly until shoots warm thick cum on my belly and thighs and probably the door of his truck. Sweaty and breathless we stay like that for several long moments just looking at one another until our breathing matches and I can feel him leaking down the crack of my ass. I start to giggle, I don't know where it comes from but I laugh softly and he chuckles sheepishly, kissing the tip of my nose. He eases back a bit, and with weak knees I settle my feet back on the running boards and plop down into the passenger side seat with my legs still outside the truck and attempt in vain to straighten myself out. He leans over me and grabs a handful of fast food napkins and offers them up with a shrug and a muttered apology for cumming all over me. Not that I really minded. I swing my legs back into the truck he closes the door behind me. He slowly walks back to his side and eases into the truck starting it up and pulls off back on the road.

I'm not really sure how I feel but one thing I can say for sure is that I am satisfied. This ache that I have been feeling for a very, very, very long time is gone and is replaced with a very warm snuggly well fucked feeling of relief. The silence between is almost awkward as we drive the five blocks to the entrance of the hotel.

"Bee… that was…" He smiles and exhales deeply. "Everything I've missed about us. Dammit. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have let you go."

"But you did… Nothing has changed Michael… we will always be at this impasse… because this… our present was never our problem…"

"The problem was our future."

"I'm gonna head inside. It's late and this has been an exhausting day."

"Why don't I come up?" He scratches the side of his head as he asks, his eyes are bright and wide and so is the grin on his face. I want to say yes and let him come to my room. I like the idea of waking up with his beside me but I don't think my heart can take it.

"I don't think so Michael." He scrunches his nose in disappointment and kind of sighs and growls at the same time.

"Alright Bee. I'll see ya tomorrow."

I slide out if his truck surprised and grateful that he didn't put up a fight. I don't think I would have won if he had. I feel conflicted and fulfilled and yes a little bit foolish that I just let my ex fuck me on the side of the road. I've been back a few hours and I am already making horrible decisions.


	2. One Shot - Blood Grey

Hello readers! I just wanted to thank you for your very POSITIVE response to Fifty Ways and my return to writing FF. You all left such amazing reviews. Those of you who actually quoted parts of the story in the reviews really made my day, and made me see the story in a different light because it highlighted what meant something to you. So thank you!

Now on to this erotic short story. I had an idea to make CG a vampire bc FSOG is based on Twilight, so i thought it would be interesting to see him in a much darker light. A It took me a while to post it bc, well, its dark and not like my usual stuff. But I thought why not, lets see if they like it. For now it is a one shot, it could expand into a larger story but i want to tie up a few others.

Also, I will be posting part two of the Weekend and a new chapter for EOTN this month. So keep your eyes out for that.

Thank you all for reading.

XOXO Erin

I dream in color you see. Bright shades of green, leaves on tall trees in the spring time, long blades of grass blowing in the wind. The shimmer of sunlight on still dark waters. A field of flowers, flecked with yellow and gold. The sky as the sun breaks, warm oranges and cool purples, mixing together with blurred edges. A blue so vivid, two perfect orbs, eyes that couldn't possibly exist in real life. The pale soft pink of a woman's lips and whisper soft peach of her unmarked flesh. A lush chocolate brown mane, falling over bare creamy shoulders.

I dream of a life that no longer exists, a life that never existed. A life of a man who drew breath, felt pain and regret, a man who could see and touch and feel things - both good and bad. I am a hollow shell of that man. Now I am a man that dreams through daylight and wakes in darkness, where everything I see is black and red and grey.

I was just nineteen, a boy in a man's body. A silly stupid boy raging against all the wrong things, looking in all the wrong places. I wanted an outlet, maybe even kindred soul to share my rage with. It was the unmitigated rage that kept me up at night, like a siren blaring out for all to hear. It was the rage that kept my family at a safe distance. I wanted everyone to be afraid of me, it didn't take much really. A few crashed cars and drunken fights, a room full of broken mirrors. But it was really the unknown that people feared most, the not knowing what I was capable of. The hollow screams in the night that woke me from my nightmares, things that I longed to forget and pretending not to remember. I was able to insulate and isolate all the while what I really wanted and craved was a connection.

Over time I found that the end of a stranger's fist did nothing to silence the screaming in my head nor did it make the past recede. It did nothing to chase away the nightmares; the sounds of bells and the heady scent of myrrh in the air. It didn't make it any easier to look at myself in the mirror every morning, my cold eyes staring back at me.

The broken ribs, torn knuckles and blacked eyes only impeded my downward spiral but it would never and could never stop it entirely. I knew what I needed, I needed - more. More isolation, more control. I need a place to unleash and let go, a place that would serve as not only a balm but a salve to leach the memories out of my mind. I sought two very specific things - escape and pain, not only my own but that of others.

I had fucked a hundred faceless girls along the way. I got an early start and discovered that my ability to dissociate myself from my inaugural sexual encounters came more easily as the number grew. I also discovered that looking how I looked was the human equivalent of a roofie. A smile, a touch, a shared laugh and I could bed whomever I chose. So I chose, and chose and chose. Then one day it just stopped working, the high I would get from finding a target, seducing her sweetly, fucking her rabidly and leaving her briskly didn't come. The supreme power of pounding away at some sweet young thing until your back is marred and bloody from her nails. Grinding away until she clenches tightly around you screaming out your name like a rock song. The feeling of relief as you come, every muscle tight, all your energy focused on eight inches of your body. Only in that moment was I free. The power of fucking her again if I chose or just leaving, not caring about feelings or emotions. When that was gone I had nothing. Once the high was lost, the memories took hold and that could not happen. I would not allow it. And so I began a life of pain.

I can't recall what brought me there that night. A preordained calling perhaps. A destiny that was unknown but familiar. I was drawn like a clichéd moth to the flame only I enjoyed the burning pain the fire brought. I had been going to places like this for nearly a year, pushing and stretching my limits and leading how to push and stretch the limits of others.

I was trying to figure out what felt good, what felt bad and what felt indifferent. Sadly the latter was what I usually found, indifference. So I pushed further, asked the right questions of the wrong people. I willingly sought out the worst of the worst and from them discovered this place. A place with no name in the middle of nothing.

It had rained for hours, a cold bitter night in October. I was dressed in black, my usual uniform of jeans, a tee shirt, a leather jacket and boots. I waited on line in the cold with the others dressed far more outrageously than I. The club was hidden away; it's entrance a back alley, deep in the bowels of the city. Not a car had passed by in the hour I had been there but people just seemed to manifest out of nowhere. Like ghosts out of the shadows, they appeared like apparitions one more beautiful than the next. They glided past the long line and were all granted instant access by the large blonde bouncer with no more than a nod and a sly smile.

The line grew tense watching all the others go in while we waited, freezing. There was a collective sense of desperation. We all needed to be there, of that I was sure. There is a look that the tarnished share, a deadness in the eye, a disconnect in the smile, a slump in the shoulder that cannot be denied. I saw myself in each and every one of them and I am sure they saw themselves in me. Some were broken, most were bent, not single one of us where whole.

I watched as the steam of our combined breath filled the air around our heads like halos. I remembered once how my father told my siblings and me as children that our breath was our essence, our soul. We take it in and we release it so that it can be connected to others. He told us we were all connected by a millennia of experience, and our souls were the map of our journey home to God.

I never believed his hippie religious ramblings, but I remember hearing his voice in my head that night, wondering if I was taking in the essence of all the sad souls around me. Hoping that was not the case.

I was tired of waiting, tried of standing around freezing my balls off for God knows what. My back was stinging from healing cane marks and my shoulders sore from being stretched above my head for hours. I didn't need this shit. I had stolen some pills from my mother's office and had a bottle of Jack hidden in the floor boards of my room. The combo would have been enough to keep the beasts at bay. I had just made up my mind to leave and head home for a drug induced stupor. I should have followed my gut.

A woman walked passed me on line. Tall, blonde, all of her edges sharp and it dawned on me that I knew her. Elena Lincoln, a friend of my mothers. She smiled when she saw me; her lips painted a bright blood red, her cold blue eyes were vacant and rimmed heavily in black. She was dressed head to toe in black, her long fur coat left open, exposing her slim leather pants, capped off by thigh high boots. Her midriff was bare and her cleavage exposed by the drape of a small shimmery halter necked top. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her exposed pale flesh and I could feel myself harden despite the cold. She was exquisite, nothing like the high school girls, barren trophy wives and drunken co-eds I had been banging at will. She was perfect. I could feel the blood rush to the surface of my skin and my breath quicken. I was helpless to hide my excitement, the vapor of my breath a dead giveaway to my desire. She leaned in ever so slowly, resting her hand on my shoulder. Her lips parted and for a moment I thought she might kiss me, I wondered what her lips would taste like. But instead she inhaled deeply, with intent. She sighed softly, shuddered slightly and then with her eyes closed she exhaled my name. I didn't notice then, the absence of vapor in her breath.

"Christian, what in the world are you doing here?" I was expecting her to be angry, but there was something inviting in her tone as she took a small step closer to me, her body brushing against mine. Her bare belly brushing against my hand, soft and cold. Her lips painfully close to my ear, sending a chill though my body.

"If you wanted more, you should have just asked. Come."

She waived her hand and I felt as though I was being pulled against my will to follow her. Like a force was wrapping around my body, squeezing me tight, holding me close. I almost felt safe, even though I was anything but. I know now what was happening. I was tranced. A simple trick really. There are snakes that bite you, they release a numbing venom - it keeps the victim calm so the snake can kill its prey with minimal effort. I was the numb and willing prey and Elena was the snake.

She glided past the bouncer, resting her hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He nodded once as he looked me over and grunted in what I assumed was approval. I took that as the okay, glanced back at the still shivering fools in wait and followed Elena past the black velvet ropes into the place that would become my hell and my haven and one day my home.

I was first greeted by a wave of warm air, it was a welcome surprise but then as I walked further and deeper down the long dark hallway I felt light headed as if the heat was too much too soon. Dizzy, disoriented I could feel the sweat drip down the small of my back. I leaned against the wall and peeled off my leather jacket looking for a modicum of relief. Sadly it never came.

I placed my hand on my forehead, and then this odd feeling took over. I could hear my pulse, not just in my ears but my wrists, my neck, my legs, my cock. I could hear and feel the blood coursing through me, my heart pounded in my chest and I couldn't catch my breath. It felt like snorting cocaine but so much more profound than that.

Elena turned back sensing my distance and with another wave of her claw like hand I felt myself being pulled once again. It stopped just at that moment. The heat, the pulse. It just went away. All of a sudden I was struck by a wave of sadness, it was the strangest feeling of homesickness and fear but I followed her anyway.

It was the smell that was familiar. Blood and cigarettes, regret and shame, cloves and amber. I laughed out loud because it was the smell of my childhood. I inhaled deeply and for the first time in years I felt like I was home.

The hallway ended and I could see the flashing lights of the club that was beyond the threshold. I could feel the pounding base of the music under my feet. There were scattered screams and moans, a wayward crack of a whip. I felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding and it was a feeling that I craved. I knew I should have turned around and left. Every instinct of self-preservation was screaming at me to run. But instead I took Elena's extended hand in mine and stepped over the line to my imminent demise with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.

"Christian are you sure?" For a moment her features softened, her icy aplomb slightly warmed. "Do you understand what this place is?"

"Yes Elena I know."

"Then why?"

"I came here to die."

She looked at me for a long moment and her sharp corners all came back in an instant.

"That may be true, but before you do, I am going to show you how to live."

She gave my hand a tug and lead me though the crowd. Everywhere I looked there was a new horror. Two young men tied to huge wooden crosses, a leather masked man wielding a whip against their ass and back. A woman bound, hog tied on a table being brutally fucked by a white haired man while a small crowd watched. A young girl, barely eighteen in braids and a pair of cut off shorts her only clothing. She was covered in blood; it oozed from her neck and wrists. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling as she stood there swaying softly to the music. A tall man with bright red hair wrapped his arm around her waist, taking ownership of her small frame. She melted against him and then I watched wide eyes and he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh if her neck. All the while her eyes never leaving the ceiling. Elena watched me watching them, I could feel her glare and the pull in my veins to her will.

"Is she going to die?" I shouted out over the tender shrill of a woman vice and the deep beat of an electronic bass.

"Eventually, yes." Elena's mouth didn't move but her voice echoed in my head. "Like you, she wants to die. She came here to die. Though her reasons are different than yours."

She was right. I knew what this place was. It was talked about I whispered tones, a place where the hopeless go to find a certain kind if peace that could only exist on the other side of pain. The rumors were that of vampires, I didn't believe in the existence of such a being. But I knew that I wanted to die, I wanted to see how far I was willing to go. I wanted to stare at the brink and see if I the end was what I truly wanted. I should have been afraid, but the numbing effect took the edge off and I realized that every soul in this place was calm.

"You can read my mind can't you?" I didn't speak, I just thought and it was enough. She chuckled and shook her head.

"No, not in the way that you read about in books or see in movies but I can hear your thoughts. There is a difference." She took a long pause, her eyes slightly squinted and then he smiled. "Yes Christian I am going to fuck you before you die." Elena grabbed my jacket from my hand and threw it to the floor. She ran her hands over my shoulders and down my chest, her nails scratching at my skin through the thin cotton of my shirt. Then leaning in she dragged the tip of her tongue down the line of my jaw to my throat. She shuddered and scraped her teeth against the tender flesh where my collarbone and neck met. I could feel the blood racing through my jugular like a freight train though a tunnel. Again, I was so calm; a strange peace had taken over me. I know now she was the reason. Her ability to temper my fear was a well-honed skill.

"You smell like heaven."

She pulled me into the center of the dance floor and slowly peeled away my tee shirt, tossing it over her shoulder. Slowly she began to grind against me. I wrapped my hands around her waist, her skin so cold, so tight. She responded to my touch, wrapping my arms around her waist, asking me to hold her. We danced together, our body's swaying to the beat of the music. The activity around us seemed to disappear and I felt as though she and I were the only beings in the room - another one of her mind tricks I would later learn.

"How long have you been…" She interrupted my thought and then it was her voice in my head, not my own.

"A vampire? Almost ten years."

"No… How long have you been lonely?" I spoke out loud. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes that mirrored my own.

"Since the day I was born. Follow me."

She pulled through the crowd, down a long hallway. The walls were covered in black velvet and she ran her fingers across it as she walked down the length of the hallway. There were many doors and I heard moans and screams as we passed each one. She made her choice and I was please to find the room was painted an ox blood red, but it was mostly empty and bare. Just a black iron bed, a small leather bench and a large crystal chandelier overhead.

"Take off your clothes, and stand in the corner." I slowly did what I was told, flicking off my boots and folding my jeans, tossing them to the floor. I watched her watching me, knowing full well she knew what I was thinking. "Turn around and press your hands to the wall. Do not turn around."

I had grown used to following orders in places like this and though I preferred giving them, the best way to learn is from someone who knows more than you. Many minutes passed and I could hear her quick movements behind me, the sound of zippers and fabric hitting the floor. Her hands fell softly on my shoulders, running them down over the scars on my back, old and new, some healing.

"Such a shame, I'm afraid these will stay with you." She raked her nail down the length of my back, ripping open the scabs. My body tensed but I didn't not move or make a sound. I could feel the warm blood drip down my back into the crack of my ass and then to the floor. I wondered how much blood had been cleaned off this floor, how many lives were extinguished in this very spot. I heard her chuckle at my thoughts and her lips were at my ear.

"You certainly have a lot of questions for someone who came here to die." She reached around and began to slowly stoke me until I was at the brink of my hardness and the only thought in my head was the rhythmic pulse of my cock.

"I'm going to fuck you now. I had other plans for you but I have since changed my mind. Sit on the bench." I did as I was told and was silent as she tied my hands and feet to the bench with long leather straps. She straddled my lap, and it was the oddest sensation as I slid into her because she was as cold on the inside as she was on the outside. Elena rode me fast and hard. She was in total control and I tipped my head back and let the pleasure consume me. When her teeth first made contact my throat I came violently and she pulsed around me. It was a release I had never experienced before. She moaned and bucked, grinding against me and when she began to suck I could feel the blood leaving my body. I could feel the life drain out of me. It was scary and for a second I regretted my decision and begged her to stop. She released my flesh and I watched as my blood dropped from her lips.

"I knew you would change your mind."

I felt a wave of relief pass over me, I was going I live. I had a second chance to do everything different and I had no plans to waste it. I was a fool because a moment later she bared her fangs and bit me once more only this time she didn't suck, she injected. A cold burn began to fill my body, flowed by the last real thing I would ever really feel - pain.

Here I am back to where it all started over a decade ago, only now I own the building and the surrounding block. Being what I am serves several purposes. I can have and do whatever I want. My ability to hear thoughts and control minds makes business dealings child's play. I have amassed more wealth than I could ever hope to spend, which is a lot considering I am immortal. My company is not even five years old but it is the largest and strongest in the world, ambition was something that was amplified. All of my personality traits were. My rage, my sexual desire, my need for pain, my quest for control and even my death wish. Ironic I know.

I have everything in my life planned and placed. Everything preordained. I have hired a team of men to maintain my lifestyle - only one knows the truth about what I am. Jason Taylor a former hunter whom I met through my savior John Flynn.

Taylor keeps me focused; he keeps me calm and most of all he keeps me from killing. In the weeks that followed my creation, Elena and I killed and fucked without thought or care. She took grey joy in making me a monster. Showing me all the ways I could manipulate and mangle. She brought me to the brink and when I fell off the edge, taking my sister Mia with me - everything changed leading me here.

Such regret is a gift, I am lucky that I can still process that emotion. Some can only feel thirst, others desire, some only feel rage. I feel it all and yet I feel nothing at the same time. The day I killed Elena, watching her body burn into ash and soot I felt relief. The memory of my sister's lifeless body weightless in my arms, and the decision to let her die or create her in my image. I choose the former. I would have rather seen her dead than subject her to a life of eternal damnation.

I still kill the living, the hopeless and the lost. The ones who come to me looking for an end. I often kill the miserable and the deserving. I am evil. And so I do evil things. I do my best but fail often. I also kill monsters like me, because it's difficult and thrilling and because I like the fear that comes with the power of knowing I can kill what cannot die.

I can feel the beat of the music beneath me; the harsh deep bass vibrates through the floors. I can hear each and every scream and groan; I can smell the salty tears and the tannic blood. It's been three nights and I am thirsty. This is my favorite part, the choice. I walk through the crowds of men and women. They all know who I am, and if they don't they soon will find out. I listen to their quiet thoughts in search of the one who needs me the most. Man or woman it doesn't matter. Thirst is thirst and water is water. Tonight I wanted to fuck, so it would be a woman and there were many to choose from.

There was a girl standing in the middle of the room. She looked happy to be there as she danced alone surrounded by chaos. She was plain, dressed only in thin black leggings, knee high black combat boots and a white ribbed tank top that hugged her lush curves. She wore no bra. Smooth shoulders and a sharp collar bone, long graceful neck. Her hair was dark and long but pulled up into a wayward bun on the top of her head. All I ever saw was grey and black and red so I couldn't tell you if it was dark brown or dark purple. Her skin was pale and free of makeup, she glowed under the blacklights. She did not belong in this place and I could not imagine how she even got in at all. I have strict rules to keep the innocents out. I focused all my energy on her and I could see the gooseflesh appear on her skin as she felt it hit her body. Turning to me slowly she smiled as my eyes met hers. They were bright blue. It unnerved me. I have not seen the color blue in a decade.

I watched for a moment as she continued to dance, he hips swaying to the changing beat of the music, her eyes never leaving mine. I could smell her sweat and the mint in her shampoo. I could hear her heart beating and see the blood pumping in the veins of her wrist and neck. Everything about her called me in and then she smiled. Her thoughts we scattered, images of the ocean and the sky. A child singing. Pancakes. I dug a little deeper and saw myself through her eyes. She thought I was tall. Sexy. Scary. Sad. She wondered if I would dance with her. She wondered why I was in a place like this. She knew my name. She knew who I was. That surprised me because from what I could tell she wanted to live. Sadly I had already made up my mind to have her and once started I couldn't stop. Even if I wanted to.

I made my way to her and without a word I wrapped myself around her, my hands are her waist, her arms gently circling my neck. We danced slowly, much slower than the music suggested. The thin cotton from her tank doing nothing to shield her hard nipples from pressing into my chest, my cock pressing into her belly. I could feel the eyes of others upon us. All waiting for the show that I would sometimes give them. But not tonight.

I took her small hand in mine and lead her out of the crown, up a long staircase back to my office. She followed, with a pause or question, numb and ready for what was to come. He mind was blank. There was nothing to read but her humming the song that was still playing in the club. She smiled as I closed the door behind us. I watched as she pulled her hair down from its bun and it unfurled down past her shoulders to her waist in a wavy mess. She exhaled deeply releasing her breath – her soul into the air and for the first time in a long time I wished for the ability to inhale and actually draw breath.

"I've heard all about you." She spoke boldly, without even the quiver of fear. The smell of her was too much. The thirst was building inside of me; this insane need clouded everything else.

"Have you?" I was amused by her.

"I came here just to meet you."

"Many do, you're not the first. And you won't be the last." Her brow furrowed a bit as she took a few steps closer. She opened her mouth to speak but I didn't want to hear another word. I spun her around pressing her back into the door. Her chest heaved from the sudden movement and her adrenaline pumped the blood through her veins furiously. I licked her neck from the collarbone just to below her wear and watched as she shivered from my touch. I wanted to fucker her, yes but I wanted to taste her more. And so I did. I wrapped my hand around her throat, stretching out her neck. Gasping for breath she grabbed fistfuls of my shirt and braced for impact. I hesitated for a moment; using every ounce of discipline I had ever learned, in an effort to understand why she wanted this.

"Because you need it Christian." Was her response. And that was all I needed to hear as I sunk my teeth deep inside of her, breaking skin and sinew and the fibrous tissue of her vein. My mouthing filling. Furiously sucking and swallowing. The thirst being fueled and fed at the same time. He body shook beneath me, her jaw tight, small moans edging their way out. I'm not sure when the power shifted or when the hunter became the prey but I felt myself weaken, it started in my chest an spread out through the rest of my body. I tried to pull away but some force kept me there. He voice was soothing me telling me it was going to be okay and just to keep drinking. And in that moment I knew what she was. I pulled upon every ounce of strength I had left and pushed myself away from her, flying across the room.

And then everything went black.


	3. One Shot - Happy Birthday Daniel

He wasn't quite yet a man really, though he walked like a man, and talked like a man there was still an element of boyishness that lingered in his almost twenty-five years. An innocence maybe, despite his penchant for exploring his darkness, there was still a childlike sense of hope and goodness, right and wrong. A moral compass that sometimes spun without direction, without the token of a true north. His eyes shone his true nature, the loss of and disappointment of life, the struggle with goodness as much as evil.

He was tall, very tall and lean. He walked with an ease and assurance that could only be found on the other side of commitment. The commitment to his body if for no other reason to save his mind. Hours spent in hard earned sweat, tearing muscle for it to rebuild again - larger and heavier than before. He had earned his swagger and sense of self but that was not the goal, only the current destination.

Tomorrow would be his birthday, the marking of his twenty-fifth year of life, a quarter century old. He was not quite sure why the marker held such meaning for him, he only knew that it did and rather than pick it apart and find the meaning he chose to just let it be. For now anyway. The day had been long and hard; nothing seemed to go right. His business was construction, a small endeavor that he hoped one day to grow, once he was done with school. His workers were loyal and knowledgeable but basic and that had come to bite him square in the ass today, when one of his projects failed to pass inspection. It was a cluster-fuck and it meant wasted hours and money to make the correction, which he would of course do himself to ensure they were done - the correct way.

On top of that one of his lectures ran late, causing him to miss an appointment with a potential client. He hated being late and therefore perceived as unreliable. So when he pulled his beat up truck into the driveway of his fixer upper his mood was less than good, it bordered fucking terrible and that was good for no one. He sat there for a moment, both arms tease, stretched out on the steering wheel before him, hands clamped at ten and two. He inhaled deeply and exhaled loudly. He needed to run, a shower and then a fuck. Honestly, that was the antidote to his current state. Sweat and orgasm, several actually.

There had been a time in his life where he would only allow himself the relief of a run, eschewing sex. The reasons were many, most were noble, some foolish but all were inconsequential now that there was someone in his life. She was special, he knew that the moment he laid eyes on her. Her face smiled even when her mouth was still and her eyes were warm and kind without a hint of ill intent or pride. Her body was lush, her breast ample and firm just spilling out of his thick fingered hands. Her ass was round, somehow soft and hard at the same time. Her body was like the calm ocean water lapping against the sand, it was soft and quiet like sunrise or loud like a storm raging in the night. And he was the prime mover of her nature. His mouth and hands, his cock all determined when and how she would come. And that is the reason he took a moment to breathe before leaving the confines of his truck. That is why he tried to still his mind and anger at the day.

Grabbing his things he made his way up the path and to the door. He slid the key into the lock, and once the door opened he was greeted by two things. Firstly his dog, who was happy its master was finally home and secondly the smell of steak sizzling in a cast iron pan. He laid down his things and kicked off his boots padding into the kitchen. She smiled broadly when she saw him, flicking a wave of long hair over her shoulder. She was standing buy the sink, slicing a tomato with long precise slices.

He rested his hand on her hips and gently kissed the side of her head as she continued with her task. Still in her work clothes, a conservative black pencil skirt that hugged the lines of her body and a blousy shirt the managed to mask her ample breasts. Only he knew what was beneath, the small patches of silk and lace he had watched her put on the very morning. He closed his eyes allowing his memory to recall the morning ritual; the black lace boy shorts that stretched over her rounded ass, the raw edge of the lace bra allowing her breasts to spill out, her nipples just peaking ever so slightly through the unlined lace. And his favorite part, the dark black thigh high stockings that highlighted her thick firm thighs. She smelled slightly like the perfume she applied that morning and the lingering scent of her vanilla shampoo. She relaxed against him slightly her soft body pressed against his hard one, they fit like a puzzle, his chin resting on the top of her head. It was the first moment he relaxed all damn day.

"Smells good."

"Me or the food?" She turned slightly in attempt to make eye contact, but all she accomplished was grinding her ass into his cock, which was already at half-mast. He pressed into her, making his presence known, and she put down her knife and left all thoughts of slicing tomatoes behind, Turing to face his she wrapped her hands loosely around his neck as he locked his hands around her waist. Rising on her tip toes she met his mouth softly, a mess of lips and tongues. His hands gripping at her hips, kneading the soft flesh he loved to watch ripple when he pounded his cock inside of her.

She regrettably broke the kiss, pulling her mouth from his, sucking in his lower lip as she departed. Concerned about the steaks sizzling away in the pan. She brushed her hands across the trimmed bearded edge of his jaw, her eyes trying to read his expression.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, babe."

"Go take a shower, try to relax and I will finish up with dinner." He let out a small growl, showing his agreement and she smiled sweetly, turning on her bare heel, setting her sights back on to the tomatoes. He watched her for a moment as her hips swayed a bit, the high round curve of her ass in every so often she would rise on her toes stretching her lean calves.

"Stop looking at my ass and get into the shower, you smell…" He chucked and gave her one hard smack on her left cheek. She was expecting it but still yelped at the impact as it radiated through her entire body in a most enticing way.

"You'll pay for that later."

"One can only hope. Now scoot."

He stripped out of his well-worn jeans, black tee and black briefs, tossing them all into the hamper. He set the water just how he liked it, a few degrees below ludicrous hot. He allowed the water to sluice across the carved muscles oh his shoulders, his neck and head. His palms flat against the cold tiles, leaning into the wall. Washed and scrubbed he emerged from the shower feeling better, refreshed. Wrapping a towel around his waist he made his way back into his bedroom.

Dressing quickly, commando, a fresh pair of jeans and tight-knit black sweater. He ran his hands through his short damp hair, looking at his reflection in the mirror as he did. He felt like he was being watched somehow, like he was not alone. It was a feeling he was used to in away, but shook off as if it was nothing.

She was right where he left her, standing at the kitchen counter. Their relationship was fairly new, only a few months old but they fit and it worked and that was that.

"Ahhh perfect timing. Dinner is on the table. Just grab us a few beers from the fridge would ya."

The sat close, eating the perfectly cooked steak, baked potatoes and salad. They talked with an easy banter about everything and nothing. A full belly and six beers between them later and he was relaxed. He rose from the table, taking a hand full of dishes to the sink. When she cooks, he cleans - an unspoken rule between them. She took a long swig of her beer, leaning back in the chair crossing her legs. She watched him for a bit making trips back and forth to the kitchen clearing the table. Without thought she grabbed him by his brown leather belt, pulling his body towards hers. With locked eyes she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, sliding it down her shoulders. Her breasts rising and falling with the anticipation in her breath. Reaching down her took both of her breasts in his hands, enjoying the feel of the delicate lace under his callused hands. He gave them a hard squeeze and smushed them together, releasing them quickly watching them fall back into place. He smiled down at her as she tugged on the silver buckle, unzipping his fly. She reached in and wrapped her small hand around his hard, smooth cock squeezing it gently at the base. A small moan escaped his lips as he leaned his pelvis closer. She fell to her knees before him, pulling her skirt up high on her thighs, then forcefully and eagerly tugging his jeans down to his ankles. He sprang forward, bobbing gently before her slightly parted lips. She licked her hand from palm to tip and wrapper it around him, firmly stroking him at the base while she surrounded his tip with the warm smooth confines of her mouth. Working in tandem she brought him to brink of his hardness, he throbbed in her mouth. The feel her tongue, the shallow ridged of the roof of her mouth, her teeth raking against him gently. Every part of him was engaged in the moment, a slight humming in his ears, his abs and ass clenched, her hand and nails digging into his thighs pulling him in. She pulled away and gently licked the tip of his cock, swirling it around easing him back. She inhaled deeply, relaxing her shoulders and eased her mouth back over him. Her tongue flat against him she eased further and further until her was completely sheathed by her. He knotted his hands in her hair, guiding her back until he felt the tip of cock press into the back of her throat. He felt the contraction of her throat a slight gag, but he felt so warm and tight he didn't pull back. She hummed a bit, a tear spilling from her eye down her cheek. She withdrew half way and then took him in again. The silky salvia coating him, the pressure of her mouth, her moans and the joy she took with each pass over him. He could feel the tingle at the base of his spine, the tight sensation where his cock met his balls.

"Fuck, baby I am going to come." She eased back knowing he came with gale forces. Sometimes more than she could swallow. Pumping him hard with both hands linked together she extended her tongue, mouth open wide as the first rope lurched forward. Hot, salty-sweet and mildly astringent, his cum coated her chin, lips and tongue. It dripped down to the tops of her breasts, glistening against her pale skin. The second rope was smaller so she took him in her mouth once more swallowing him whole. He shuttered through the third and fourth spasms, his hands grasping at her shoulders, steadying himself. Breathless and self-satisfied she sat back on her heels. He extended his hand to her, she took it rising up to meet him.

"Bedroom… Now." She smiled and nodded eagerly, a surprise waiting for him on the other side of his bedroom door. He pulled her towards the door and was shocked to find a woman sitting on the edge of his bed. His feeling of being watched was correct, she must have been hiding, maybe in the closet. Her face familiar, a friend of hers he had met over the summer at a party. She was naked, with small pert breasts and golden brown skin, her straight shiny black hair seductively falling over one eye. She smile at him and cocked her head to one side.

He felt arms wrap around his waist from behind and the heat of her breath on his ear.

"Happy Birthday Daniel."


End file.
